


Watching You Speak

by kawaiite



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Single Father, F/M, Hard of Hearing!Hinata, Homophobia, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, Slice of Life, hearing impaired character, one-sided bokuto/akaashi, wet dreams
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-29
Updated: 2016-02-19
Packaged: 2018-05-10 03:42:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5569573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kawaiite/pseuds/kawaiite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kageyama Tobio is a single father, not realizing he's been looking for love until he meets a certain baker.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Her and I

It's hot, too hot; he's sweating, feeling the path of a bead of sweat roll down his forehead, curve around his eyebrow and slither down the side of his cheek, melting into the pillow beneath his head. He's panting, hot and heavy, voice thick as he grits out something he can't exactly recall, and he's moving. From the waist down. Can't see, can't hear, can't - warmth pools rapidly in his stomach, fluttering down into his hips and thighs and ankles. There's a dip in the bed, between his legs.

There's no sense of panic, just _oh, fuck yeah, more, fuck_ and Kageyama slowly begins to feel soft tufts of what he assumes is hair, down by his hips. The warmth from before sparks in his groin into an even more obnoxious feeling and it's as if he's... dreaming. It feels too good. His hands buried to the scalp in whoever's hair, or whatever's, they're moving and they're moving fast, Kageyama's moving his hips up and he can feel with the push of his hips someone's tip of their nose collide with his skin. He's gasping, shamelessly, and it's a strange kind of feeling, his head feels clogged; his hearing's plugged, muffled, but still eligible, and he feels a stab of pain as he sucks in his lip and bites.

The arch of Kageyama's back lifts, he's drooling, he's bleeding, he's sweating, he's coming, _oh, oh, oh - God, yeah, oh_ , and with a gasp that hurts his throat he sits up, in bed, clutching his blankets; a disgusting firm wetness warms his thighs and abdomen. Breathing erratic, he licks his lips and hangs his head. From down the hall Kageyama's daughter giggles and something sounding akin to Lego blocks smashes. Good morning.

**. . .**

"Daddy, how come?" Kageyama blinks down at his dark cup of coffee, and slowly raises his head, the girl with syrup smothered over her lips and both cheeks, remnants of strawberry on her top lip.

He hums in question, taking a long sip then resting his chin in his hand, watching her thoughtfully. "You look gross."

She swipes her forearm over her face and Kageyama watches for a moment more before snorting and sliding out of his chair. From beside the microwave he rips apart a sheet of paper towel from its roll, runs a layer of warm water over it and tantalizingly wriggles the wet paper in his hand, smiling as his daughter pouts, accepting her fate. With a gentle thumb, Kageyama rubs at her chubby little cheeks, tch-ing at her as they have a mini competition of _I'm gonna eat this now, daddy; no you're not; sure I am, watch me,_ which ends in the smaller's victory, holding her last pancake above her head as if she held a trophy. He turns his back, tossing the towel, and returns to his seat, taking a long drink.

"So, so, so? You never answered me." The girl demands in a hinting tone, nibbling at her pancake, with her hands, which she has been told **not** to do before.

Kageyama simply smiles and leans back, cup in hand. "You think I'm gross?" She nods enthusiastically, watching him carefully, cheeks stuffed.

He sighs, taking a moment to recollect and recreate last night's dream and even worse sleep. "You know the nightmares you have and run to my room and tell me all about?" The girl slows her chewing cautiously and crunches her eyebrows together slightly, she nods. Kageyama takes another careful breath, "it was like that."

She pouts ferociously and hesitates from shoving the last of her food in her mouth. "That wasn't a very good story, daddy." She does it anyway. Meanwhile, Kageyama swallows a mouthful of lukewarm coffee and swishes the last puddle around in the bottom of his cup. He stands, the girl's plate cleared with evidence of only strawberries by their hats and a thick blanket of syrup; Kageyama grins, a toothy sort of smile, and takes her plate from her. "Kidding! I look gross 'cause you look gross."

He runs the water in the sink, back facing his daughter; he suppresses a laugh hearing her gasp, smile evident in her tone, and thrusts his hips forward as she patters up behind him and smacks his butt. "Ow, Kaori! Why? Now I can't feel my legs!"

"That's what you get for calling me gross, you big gross!" Kaori laughs uncontrollably as Kageyama abandons the dishes and scoops her up in one swift movement, hoists her up in his arms and nudges her shirt up with his nose and blows a long raspberry over her bellybutton. She smacks the top of his head, stomach bouncing, going limp in his arms in laughter. Kageyama grins and leaves her stomach, kisses the top of her head, her cheeks and her nose, and tells her to go get ready for daycare, setting her down.

Kaori salutes from below and scampers away, down the hall to her room. Kageyama watches as she disappears around the corner, making faint sounds similar to a race car. He rolls up his sleeves, glances at the wall clock, _7:12_ , and scrubs diligently at the sticky plate. From down the hall Kageyama hears his daughter singing. Sunlight streams through the blinds, just overhead. The warm water, circular motions of his wrist, the soothing sound of the water running. Maybe Kageyama misunderstood the day. Good morning.

**. . .**

Kaori falls asleep on the drive to daycare and remains adamant to leave Kageyama's side, even in the foyer, one of the caretakers that Kageyama doesn't mind smiles encouragingly just a few feet away. She squeezes his hand as he crouches and tucks a brown strand of hair behind her ear; she pouts and moves so that she cradles Kageyama's arm, leaving him to rub the back of her head with his thumb with his free hand.

"Kaori... what's wrong?" He speaks under his breath, glancing over at Asahi and mouths, 'just a minute,' he smiles and nods and Kageyama leans in to kiss the top of her head.

"Dun' wanna go... wanna stay with you, daddy." Kaori mumbles and rubs her cheek against his arm. He smiles fondly and runs his hand from the back of her head to her shoulder.

"I understand, sweetie, but daddy has work." From the corner of his eye Kageyama sees Asahi move behind the main counter, but insists on his daughter, rubbing her shoulder slowly. "How about after daycare we can go get a snack, hm?"

Kaori finally begins to give in, lifting her head and watching Kageyama closely. "Where?"

"Anywhere you want."

She smiles broadly, clinging to his arm. "Anywhere?" Kageyama nods, smiling back and winds his arms around Kaori as she releases his arm and hugs him. Adjusting a strap on her bag, leaning away from the short-lived hug, she tells him that she'll think real good on it, a place that they'll both like. Kageyama leaves it to her, kisses her one last time and stands, watching as she waves goodbye and prances over to Asahi who now stands taller than Kageyama, stubbled, tanned, warm-hearted.

Asahi takes her hand and waves at Kageyama, his daughter doing the same.

"Bye-bye, daddy! Have a good day!"

His cheeks ache with a constant smile, waving goodbye.

Never minding the immediate ache for his daughter's voice in the backseat of his car, Kageyama starts up his car, adjusts the temperature settings and buckles himself. He laps at his chapped lips, rubbing his hands in between his thighs, glancing up behind the windshield to watch the grey clouds looming overhead envelop the sun. Sighing, realizing that autumn may not last forever, Kageyama fishes his phone out of his pocket and clicks his tongue at the time.

Leaves twist and spiral onto the road, his work not too far from the daycare.

In his head, he wonders what special place Kaori will take him to today.

He ponders this, slamming his car door, forgetting the jingle above his head as he opens the door to his work, greeted by a woman at the front counter, beaming at Kuroo, see-through gauze winded around her arm.

Maybe she'll just decide on a gas station snack... Fast food, even.

The woman leans over the counter, pushing her breasts above and onto the counter, tilting her neck with her chin in her hand, smiling as Kuroo explains whatnot and whatever. In a second he parts from the conversation to greet Kageyama, and receives a nod in return _plus_ the woman's attention and even as he trudges down the hall Kageyama could almost feel her eyes on his back. It gives him a brief chill, but it's forgotten once he steps foot into his office.

Ah, the word "office" could be taken lightly - it was more of an... environment. But then again an office is technically classified as an environment... nevertheless, there's photos of his best work scattering the walls in funky patterns, Kageyama's shoes squeak against the tile, he prepares his inkbed with a clean cloth.

Music he's vaguely familiar with because of hearing it on a daily basis whispers throughout the place, from down the hall a distant bell sounds followed up by a strained sigh from Kuroo.

Kageyama tosses the cloth and pushes back some of his hair.

"Hey, hey, hey, boy, I didn't see ya clock in! Docked pay, mister, docked pay!" The man calls from out of eyesight and Kageyama rounds the corner to witness Kuroo kick his feet up at the front desk. He folds his arms behind his head and grins a little at him, Kageyama walking to the front room and sorting out a few magazines that had been misplaced or put in the wrong place, likely from the night before. Bokuto never cleans the waiting room.

"Do it for me. You know my number." Kageyama flips through _Skin Deep_ , woman of all shapes and sizes and races and styles posing how they wished with their detailed skin while Kuroo whistles to himself to the side.

"That's not very respectful, now is it, Tobio?" He glances over, Kuroo's fingers already busy on the keyboard. Kageyama snorts a little and puts the magazine back.

"When's Bokuto in?"

Kuroo hums to himself. "What time's it?"

"Ten after eight."

"In fifty minutes," Kuroo sighs, stretching his arms above his head and wills himself from the chair, turning down the hallway. "and remember the intern's in today at noon! All yours, Kageyama! Just don't scare him away, got it?"

Kuroo grins at the faint, yes, sir, he hears from the waiting room and proceeds to his own space, sorting out shelves of piercings and jewelry - gold, silver, copper, running his own tongue piercing along the wall of his teeth, and he wonders how well the intern will behave or more importantly, how well Kageyama will behave.

He laughs out loud, Kageyama suddenly feels cold.

**. . .**

On his hands and feet, Kageyama could count how many times Bokuto "effortlessly" hit on the intern. Akaashi Keiji, nice man, very well-mannered and respectful, reserved, quiet but isn't afraid to tell someone he fucked up or doesn't understand something. The amount of piercings on him looked illegal, as well, a few tattoos on his wrists and collarbone. But the poor guy, Bokuto's knee touching Akaashi's, Bokuto leaning in dangerously and  _unprofessionally close_ , instructing him how to insert the bar slowly, easily, so he doesn't hurt the patient.

Kageyama forced himself to leave the room, on account of vomit being jammed in his throat.

All he hoped was that Akaashi dealt with it better than he did, and that he would continue to do so, so that when Kageyama left to pick up Kaori, there would be no resignation notice on the front desk the next morning.

Once outside, though, the wind howls at a dangerous speed, so much so that as Kageyama struggles to fish his keys out of his pocket at the door of his car he has to keep a wide stance not to be blown over. He ponders whether it's been like this all day, and if it has, why he hadn't noticed sooner; the work day was unusually slow, not to mention, Kuroo was mostly keeping an eye out for Akaashi while balancing one or two appointments, himself. Kageyama did the same, looking out for the intern, and was only booked for a colouring session.

The man was sincere, being honest and telling Kageyama upfront that he would be talking a lot to get his mind off the ache. He asked about Kageyama's tattoos, their stories, why he wanted to get them in the first place - once the session came to an end, the man nearly in tears by the sight of his finished koi winding around the length of his calf, it was boring. Kageyama cleaned his equipment until it shone, tidied the waiting room for the _fourth time_ , mind still occasionally coming across what Kaori had in store for him.

"Daddy!" She yells from across the foyer, bringing Kageyama out of his reverie, another one of the daycare workers, Ittetsu, following in her eager trail. "Daddy, I know what place! I thought about it _alllllll_ day!"

Kageyama crouches with a smile, embracing the girl, twirling her in his arms before slowing and brushing her hair out of her face.

"And where would my princess like to go?"

"Um..."

Ittetsu, with a shy smile, walks towards the pair, hands behind his back.

"Ah," Kaori points at him, "I told Takeda-senpai 'cause I dunno how to say it."

The men say their greetings, Kaori now occupying herself by playing with Kageyama's hair, then his coat, then his eyebrows, careful to avoid the stud on the corner of his left.

Ittetsu explains in brief detail that what he understood from Kaori was that she meant the coffeehouse down the street; clarifying that he wasn't certain because Kaori didn't really know what she was talking about either, he encourages Kageyama to just go with it, to hope that his interpretation was at least a little right.

Kageyama thanks him, to say hello to Asahi for him, and waves goodbye along with Kaori's enthusiastic parting.

Thankfully the wind had somehow died completely, getting Kaori into her chair was no big feat. From the back of the car, Kageyama adjusts the rear view mirror to grin at her, she bounces in place, cheering about cupcakes and cookies and muffins.

Kageyama joins, his daughter shrieking with joy. She does this again, once she realizes the coffeehouse is near, and pulling into the minimal, almost empty parking is one of the times that Kageyama has seen his daughter this excited. By herself she unbuckles and squirms out of her seat and pushes the car door closed. Kageyama meets her on the driver's side to hold her hand, holds the door open for her, somewhat pleased that their front door has the same bell as his work does, and is greeted by the scent of fresh coffee and sweets. The inside reminds Kageyama of a retro eighties coffeehouse, floors tiled and tacky but admirable wallpaper, lighting dim enough for it to be called intimate.

Kaori bounds away from him giggling and presses her face against the display case.

An extremely blond man, hair almost looking grey with how light it is, exits from the double doors to the side, likely leading to the bakery in the back. His smile is soft and honest, chuckling as he spots not just a lonely Kageyama but his eager daughter as well, bouncing and pointing at a certain cookie behind the glass.

"How may I help you two today?" He asks sweetly, rounding the corner to crouch beside Kaori who examines him for half a second before deciding she's much too distracted with the abundance of snacks. Kageyama waits a few steps back, crosses his arms, watching the adorable exchange between them, the four year old taking the lead of the conversation; she fires off this and that, daddy has cookies at home but they're, she lowers her voice, not that good; everything looks so good; I want that one; daddy, daddy, can I have it?

The man smiles again and stands to face Kageyama. "Does she have your permission to have a taste test, dad?"

Kaori gasps from below and crosses her hands against her chest, eagerly nodding at Kageyama. He grins and taps his chin.

"I don't know, Kaori... have you been good lately?"

"Yeah, I have - I have, daddy! I cleaned my room yesterday and I picked out my own clothes all by myself this morning! Please, please, please?"

He hums, the man watches Kageyama with a patient, waiting smile.

After a moment, Kageyama nods and Kaori squeals. The man laughs again and escorts Kaori behind the counter, hands her a napkin and the cookie of her choice. She scurries back around and Kageyama crouches, accepting her offer of the first bite.

"Would either of you like something to drink, as well? Tea or juice for the young lady?"

"Juice, please!" She exclaims before eyeing Kageyama to make sure it's okay. He nods and refuses the offer for himself.

Once again Kageyama hears the man's smooth laughter and the soft pour of liquid. Kaori hums into her bite, grabbing Kageyama's hand with her free one and leads him to two free seats at a small rounded table. He lifts her up into it, the chair being a little tall, and takes the place across from her with his chin in his hand.

"Here you go, ma'am, do you like your snack?" The man sets down her cup, smiling as she nods wildly. "Would you like to say thank you to the baker?" He smiles wider as she shakes her head more, shoving the rest of the cookie in her mouth. Kageyama reaches across the table as the man turns to leave and takes her hand.

"That's very nice of you, Kaori."

She grins. "It wuf delifiouf!"

Kageyama laughs, stroking the back of her hand with his thumb. "Be sure to say thank you to the nice man, too."

"I will, daddy, don't worry."

The two wait a while, talking among one another; this _was_ the place that Ittetsu mentioned that Kaori told him about, the smile on her face doesn't falter, even as the man walks out from the double doors following behind a shorter, ginger man wearing a huge smile, his eyes glossy, cheeks blushing bright pink.

Kageyama watches as the grey-haired man stands away from the two, the shorter man sniffling as he crouches before his daughter. From the corner of his eye he notices the taller man signalling to him, pointing at his ears. Kageyama stares, furrowing his brows. Ears?

He doesn't fully understand until the crouched man speaks in a stuffy voice.

"Thank you."

Kaori leaps into the man's arms, hugging him tightly as he smiles brightly, tears streaming down his cheeks. Kageyama watches, dumbfounded. Oh. Ears.


	2. He and I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bumped up the rating because kags will be having more of these "dreams"...  
> anyway, thanks so much for the support!

Outside is slowly dimming and turning black, as Kageyama glances up past his reflection in the window he watches dozens of thick and thin clouds dance around the quarter moon illuminating white; the trees outside are stiff - still, in the cold.

  
There are stars twinkling dimly and Kageyama connects the dots to refute his want to cry.

  
In a gentle movement, Kaori lets her arms fall limp to turn behind her and slip her half-dirty napkin off the table, offering the ginger the clean side. Kageyama turns back, fondly watches the hesitant exchange, a smile quickly growing on him. He would have to tease her about that later - offering someone a dirty napkin.

  
But he graciously takes it from her nonetheless, dabbing it around his swollen eyes. Bits of crumbs stick to his cheeks.

  
Kaori grins and giggles, her voice sounding clogged. She'd, too, once said that crying makes her sound like a goblin after, so that's why she doesn't cry much but the way that the man watches her and thanks her like she's made of pure gold speaks for itself. Kageyama twiddles his fingers on his lap feeling warmth rise in his cheeks, he's getting sore from smiling so much.

  
The man calls her a princess and runs a comb of his fingers past her bangs and around her ear.

  
It's almost like time slows; the ginger's nimble fingers carefully trace the shell of her ear, pulling back a curtain of her thin hair, revealing Kaori's big pink cheeks spotted with crumbs and streaked with dried tears. A wet sheen coats Kageyama's eyes and he blinks away what emotion he shows, Kaori's hands folded politely in front of her, the man finding honest interest in her brown stringy hair.

  
But his hair's like a _fire._

  
In contrast to Kageyama, he's like the sun whilst Kageyama's the moon: teeth that have been bleached several times to hide the fact that he loves sweets much more than the average person, glowing, vibrant eyes that pierce into you, his hair... like a raging fire.

  
Meanwhile Kageyama curdles a vibrant room, his eyes as dark as coal. Paint slithers over his skin, the colours and abstract art speaking for him in replacement of words. 

Kaori's the ground that supports him - she winds around his ankles to help him walk; she nourishes him plenty with amusement and love; she cradles his big hand in both of hers and assures him it's okay.

  
A sun, a moon, and its earth.

  
Kaori's eyes light up. She turns to Kageyama and points, "Daddy, that's what you call me too! He called me a princess - he called me a princess!" She beams, turning back to the man as he playfully pokes her stomach.

  
"It must be true, then. You're a real princess. But where are your dress and heels?"

  
"At the castle!" Kaori sings, setting off a fit of laughter in Kageyama and the two other men, one of which returns back behind the counter as a blinding pair of headlights raise attention from the three at the table; the ginger gets to his feet, hoisting Kaori back into her seat.

  
Kageyama stands tall as the man turns to him.

  
He notices the widespread blush across the man's cheeks, face still spotty and red. Kageyama observes his zealous blinks, spreading wetness back under his eyes; his smile is sparkling.

  
His teeth are so white, lips so pink.

  
He speaks with such caution yet such confidence.

  
"It was nice to meet... you. My name is Hinata Shouyou." Hinata extends his hand, speaking carefully.

  
"Kageyama Tobio," he winds his fingers around his hand, squeezing it lightly. "thank you for today, you made her very happy."

  
Hinata's face deepens in colour, his eyebrows hitching together as he concentrates on Kageyama's lips for a moment longer before returning to his eyes, smiling, nodding.

  
"She's the one that made _me_ happy..." They turn back to Kaori who's been playing with a penny she found from her pocket. She curls the coin in her hand and waves at the both of them and swivels off the chair to her feet, adjusting her shirt that flew up a little on the way down.

  
Hinata looks back at Kageyama, easing away his hand. "Have a... good day. Come back soon, okay?" 

He crouches and swipes a hand through Kaori's hair one last time, she nods and thanks him. 

**. . .**

  
The road was dark and deserted, no sign of wind or rain, but the lingering silence among him and his daughter left a nasty aftertaste on his tongue. It was somehow a compensation for the weather's behaviour, Kageyama thought. It was getting late, the car was warm and there was no lights outside, to make the assumption that she wasn't tired wouldn't be horribly smart.

  
He remembered asking her what wrong and she fell silent for a moment more before she whispered how nice Hinata was.

  
"... He _was_ pretty nice, huh?" Kageyama sighed, relaxing his shoulders back into the seat, glancing at Kaori through the rearview. She had her head leant against the window, watching everything outside come and go. Her eyes were closed.

  
"Yeah," she hummed. "the cookie was really good, too. Can we go there again soon?"

  
Of course, he said. And he meant it. From the bottom of his heart, how happy that man made his daughter, how happy his daughter made that man - Kageyama wouldn't put it in jeopardy. If it meant the world to her, he would do anything.

  
They sit at home now, Kageyama on the edge of Kaori's bed as she wriggles underneath her blanket with her tiara branded pyjamas. She goes limp as soon as everything up to her shoulders is covered and blinks slowly up at her dad.

  
Again, she asks if they really _can_ go back there.

  
Kageyama tucks her hair behind her ear and smiles. Of course, he says. She smiles back and lets her eyes close: her smile fades and her breathing evens. For the last time Kageyama presses a long kiss to the top of her head and steps backwards out of the room to watch her, closing her door until the only light in her room is the night-light.

  
He's quiet as he brushes his teeth, as he showers, as he waits and watches himself in the mirror, eyes wandering over his chest and shoulders and arms. He runs his hands over his skin, leaving warmth in his wake. He rolls his neck, his palm grazing the trail of colour there; tattoos both coloured and not preach his memories from his skin, there's little to no room on his left arm for any more. Kageyama lifts his wrist and rubs over the date of his daughter's birth, his pulse quick.

  
Kageyama swallows and falters. Lowering his eyes he sighs, collects his clothes and when he makes it to his bedroom he doesn't feel like dressing. He climbs into bed and is asleep by the time his clock hits nine.

  
**. . .**

  
The familiar raging heat forces his body awake, tingling and yearning. He's already vocal but far more submissive - Kageyama lifts his hips quickly, lip caught between his teeth as he moans against his skin, one hand strangling the pillow supporting his head and the other leading down below.

  
His breath catches in his throat and his eyes force close, a deep red slowly spreading down his neck and pooling in his abdomen; he can feel his hair sticking to his forehead even as he whips his head back and forth, holding back his voice in fear of... in fear of...

  
Kageyama's bouncing against slick warmth engulfing him. He's utterly and completely lost in the erratic sodomy; his voice trembles and he releases his sore lip, thrashing as the heat gets more and more intense.

  
_More, more, more!_ he screams, he gives in, he's close, _don't fucking stop, fuck, fuck, ah, fuck, **fuck-!**_ and a groan rips from Kageyama's throat, raw, and he's awake, panting and sweating, the sticky feeling he's gotten used to settling on his abdomen.

  
He licks his lips and tries to catch his breath, it becoming extremely more tiring for him to keep up with this disgusting charade that _something isn't wrong with him._ It's been happening every night for the past week. He's growing concerned, what if Kaori jumps on his bed one morning and panics because her dad's chanting and sweating and moaning?

  
_Absolutely ridiculous,_ he thinks, swiping himself clean and pulling on pants and making the walk of shame to the washing machine.

  
From down the hall as Kageyama switches loads, he hears the familiar pitter-patter of tiny feet and small arms wind quickly around his calf.

  
"'Morning, daddy." Kaori yawns.

  
"'Morning, honey. You startled me," He ruffles her static hair, eyes barely open as she releases Kageyama's leg but still clings to his pant leg with a hand. "why don't you," Kageyama grunts, struggling to push his blanket down. "head back to bed? It's still kinda early, you have plenty of time."

  
He pulls the lid down and adjusts the settings, the pleasant sound of running water coming to his ears and he brings his daughter into his arms. Kaori rubs her eye and licks her pouty, chapped lips as Kageyama walks her back to her room.

  
"Daddy..." 

  
"Hm?"

  
"Did you pee the bed?"

  
Hesitance resonates in his chest, escorting the girl back into her room and back into her bed. He presses a kiss to her forehead and she struggles to bring her blankets back up to her chest.

  
"Don't tell." He smiles, tucking her back in.

  
"Gross, daddy."

  
"Just like you." She giggles and puckers her lips, Kageyama kisses her before shutting her door behind him, debating on what he thinks Kaori would like for breakfast.

  
**. . .**

  
The morning taking its sweet time to warm up, to wake up - an orange tint spread across the sky until noon - Kaori bids Kageyama goodbye with a big sloppy kiss on his cheek with a granola bar in one hand and the strap of her bag in the other. Asahi encourages her to hurry with the wave of his hand, and she offers up one more smile before scurrying off and walking side by side with the him.

  
Before he knows it, Kageyama's daydreaming at work with his pen hovering over blank paper, wishing that Kaori was waiting down the hall for him to finish up and get a snack.

  
It's been a few hours, judging by the fading orange outside it's late afternoon. Kageyama is scheduled for a piercing at two, a colouring at three, and with a customer's insistence he has to stay back half an hour after his shift ends to pierce a child's ear. Not exactly the part of the play he volunteered for, but...

  
"Ah - Kageyama? Sorry to bother you," Akaashi knocks on the doorframe, bringing Kageyama's attention towards the noise. "but I wanted to talk with you for a bit. Bokuto has been bugging me all morning, and I would have liked to start my day with speaking to someone sane, but..."

  
"Get'n here. He'll come searching once he realizes he's been talking to himself for twenty minutes."

  
Akaashi slides himself into a chair across from Kageyama, separating them is Kageyama's tools and his inkbed. He crosses his ankles and sketches a clean curved line.  
The intern from across the way glances down at his papers holding various notes Bokuto's been giving him for the past day and brushes his thumb against his bottom lip stud; Kageyama feels him watch the simplistic movements of his favourite pen which creates a chubby-cheeked face. Bangs come next.

  
"You're good," Akaashi murmurs. "I'm majoring in art right now... it's difficult but you make it look so easy."

  
Kageyama hums and shakes his foot as he draws.

  
"Anything else you're majoring in?"

  
"Not necessarily - mostly art. English, too, I suppose... it's a prerequisite. For art."

  
Kageyama nods and the image of his daughter slowly comes to life on the paper before him. He sweeps his pen and curls her hair behind her ear. From down the hall, Bokuto's laughing at something which is followed up by: "right, Akaashi?" and then the store's engulfed in a bittersweet silence that makes both Kageyama and Akaashi snort.

  
"Dummy..."

  
"Yes, very much so... though he does know his stuff, I guess." Akaashi sighs.

  
The pen presses a little harder as it streaks Kaori's eyes brown.

  
"The problem is, he knows too much. Brain can't take anymore - he'll explode soon. Twenty bucks says so."

  
Akaashi laughs. "An insult?"

  
Kageyama looks up with a gnarly smile. "No doubt."

  
Akaashi laughs harder and stomps his feet at the end of a breath.

  
"Hmm... twenty, you say? I'll wager thirty."

  
"Oh! High roller!" Kageyama whistles, bemused with a grin, and sets his pen down before he shades her blush. He presses a knuckle to his chin in thought. "Thirty, though? ... Good enough for me. You've got a deal, my good man."

  
They extend their hands in a shake.

  
"Ah - but... define _'explode'..._ "

  
Kageyama straightens himself and slides his paper to the side. He presses down an insistent smile as he rests his elbows on the edge of the inkbed and sags his head into his hands with a look of utter shock.

  
"Oh my god, dude... oh... my god... **_dude..._** " He mocks.

  
Akaashi throws his head back with a hand over his mouth and Kageyama goes limp against the leather, vibrating with laughter. Bokuto's voice gets louder, the intern's name nothing but a pathetic whine on his tongue; from down the hall the bell at the entrance rings. The office dies from giggles to cocked brows and open ears, and someone asks for the man in question.

  
Kageyama smirks wickedly.

  
"Should've raised it to fifty."

  
**. . .**

  
"Hey, it's my cookie girl!" The man behind the counter rushes around and rubs Kaori's back as Kageyama stands his distance. "You're late today... I thought I wouldn't see you!"

  
Kaori jumps away and lunges towards the display case. The lingering scent of coffee and sweets entices Kageyama closer.

  
"Work wanted me late today."

  
The man tilts his head up and stands straight, tall, almost as tall as Kageyama, but loses by a little. He feels pride swell in his chest, crossing his arms, keeping a close eye on Kaori below.

  
"Sorry 'bout that. She wanted to come here regardless if I was late or not."

  
He grins and shakes his head and tells Kageyama not to worry.

  
Their attention quickly turns back to Kaori who's quiet, save for her loud stomps in frustration, staring daggers into the sweet behind the glass. She glances around, tempted to round the corner herself to fetch the sweet she'd like. But the man still lets her follow him and the crumbly tart in her small hands shines with glaze, she scurries to the corner to save a booth.

  
"For you, sir?" The man asks, and Kageyama orders a tea. The fog warms his chin and cheeks in the time he sits down by Kaori, and Kageyama slouches into his seat soothed by a scorching heat coating his throat, the faint sound of utensils clunking in the back and the pages of his daughter's book being turned with sticky little fingers.

  
The cashier disappears into the back, an overwhelming wave of fresh food coaxing both Kageyama and Kaori into gazing patiently at the double doors, waiting.

  
Hinata eventually arises with flushed cheeks and flour in his hair.

  
He smiles at Kageyama and waves to Kaori, approaching slowly.

  
"Had a little accident back there?" The ginger blinks at Kageyama, waits for a moment, then frowns... still somehow hiding a smile beneath it.

  
"Did _not._ I've been like this all day."

  
"You sure? It looks like something exploded." Kageyama mocks with a smile with his cheek in his hand, elbow resting against the table, and watches as he stands by Kaori, peering down at her book. He says something, she smiles and nods up at him.

  
Kageyama pales.

  
That's right...

  
Hinata's not normal. 


	3. Us

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woo! sorry for the wait, but here it is! thank you all for your continued support, it means so much to me xoxoxox

Kageyama dreams peacefully for the next month. It's quickly morphing into winter and his heating bill's been up in the clouds; the young girl down the hall has taken a liking to bathing for an hour; his car has grown accustomed to the cold, waiting outside the local coffeehouse every few days.

Though, somehow, none of it feels right.

One of Kageyama's last dreams were so graphic he was equally horrified as he was disgusted to show himself around Kaori for the whole morning. He felt like a disgusting disappointment to her when he saw the shine in her eyes, heard her timid voice ask what was for breakfast.

He was on his knees sinking in his sheets. A man with a head blurred by his lack of imagination had satisfied Kageyama of his dirty desires, his wrists were bound; his ankles were bound. Even when Kageyama looked up with their cock on his tongue, he couldn't see a face. He never could.

Wound like a mummy in a housecoat Kaori was worried, asking if he was sick and fetched him water and tried to draw him a bath. Kageyama felt sick to his stomach. **_Dirty. Uncouth._**

He would go to a psychiatrist if he wasn't low on money.

He would go to a psychiatrist if he knew it wouldn't concern Kaori.

He would go to a psychiatrist if the dreams were still reoccurring.

... But they're not. For a month.

And for a month, none of it feels right.

Hinata introduces the father and daughter to Sugawara Koushi, the man behind the counter. Kageyama notices that when he smiles his birth mark under his left eye lifts and almost disappears under the curve of the apple of his cheek. Kaori doesn't. When she learns his name she swings her ankle behind her leg and rubs her arm and asks if she can have a sweet.

Kageyama and Suga laugh. Hinata joins a moment later with hesitant laughter, watching the two carefully. Kageyama doesn't want to think about the fact that Hinata didn't hear anything.

Nevertheless the two visit often. Some days it's busy with the elderly perched at a table with a coffee in one hand and a newspaper in the other, others are soccer moms and others are teens in sweatpants with a laptop bag hung over their shoulder. Kageyama visits for lunch when he can and meets Yamaguchi, one of the coffeehouse's cashiers.

He exceeds in nervousness but smiles a lot. The abundance of freckles scattered on his face reminds Kageyama of Suga's birth mark plus a thousand. They get used to seeing each other after a few weeks until Kageyama begins coming in late for lunch where a short flustered blond woman now mainly occupies Yamaguchi's jobs.

Her name is Yachi, she likes cupcakes and thinks she can do more than she actually can.

During the downfall of a lunch rush, Hinata whisking back and forth between the kitchen and dining room, arms full of warm-looking racks lined neatly with decorated cookies and biscuits, Yachi's cheeks go red as she sees Kageyama and her bottom lip trembles. The woman, noticing no further customers in line behind Kageyama, reaches for his hands over the counter and bows her head taking deep, slow breaths.

"That's it... shh, shh. You're doing great today." He winds his fingers around her smaller hands and rubs his thumbs over her knuckles slowly. From behind the counter Yamaguchi rubs her shoulder with a gloved hand.

Her name is Yachi, she likes cupcakes and deals with chronic anxiety.

The coffeehouse is warm with the presence of an abundance of people when she finally calms down and squeezes Kageyama's hands and asks what he'd like.

He smiles. "Take a break. Yamaguchi can cover for you right now, there's no more people, right?" She looks down and plays with her apron, cheeks still red and breathing still limited.

"You don't want your pretty make-up to run now, do you?" Yachi smiles and shakes her head.

Yamaguchi encourages her break, slipping the tie of her apron from behind undone and tugging the strings in the direction of the kitchen. Yachi rolls her eyes and stumbles away with a smile, waving at Kageyama in thanks.

Kageyama hands over thirty dollars from Akaashi's wallet and orders lunch and drinks for the team.

**. . .**

The skies crack with thunder and lightning under the shelter of the coffeehouse.

Kageyama feels his gut drop and is overwhelmed with panic, Kaori under his arm, Hinata across the room with the broom clutched tightly against his chest, eyes wide, face evident with unease. Suga yelps from the back room and jogs to the front, a hand pressed over his mouth in shock as he peers up at the black sky stricken with anger; light slashes the dark and it fades leaving a shattering echo in its wake.

"Looks horrible out there..." Suga sighs, pulling out a chair from a nearby table, eyes kept to the sky. Kaori squirms under Kageyama's arm, holding a pink crayon with a small hand. "I hope it dies down soon. I don't want to be stuck here all night."

The soft sound of smooth jazz coming from the speakers placed in each corner of the restaurant is drowned every few minutes by a blood-curdling scream of thunder. Kaori's crawled closely against Kageyama and with Suga sitting close to the window, occasionally checking and confirming if every door is locked, they wait in timid silence; Hinata keeps himself busy to distract from the obvious trepidation scaring him into the back room every once and a while.

He comes and goes with his broom standing taller than him, offering Kaori sweet after sweet in which Kageyama has to step in and decline the offer after the remnants of her fourth is scattered over the table as she had crushed it in her hand after an especially tremendous boom.

And after a while, dusting up what was left of Kaori's mess, Hinata asks if he can talk with Kageyama in the back. He leaves her in Suga's care who sits her on his lap hugging her close and asking her questions about school while Kageyama follows the ginger closely around the bakery in the back with sharp, shiny, silver looking tools of all kinds surrounding them. It's weird, he thinks, to see so many images of his reflection at once.

Once Hinata slips his apron off and drapes it on the nearby coat rack's branch where a few more of its kind hang, he beckons Kageyama closer with a hand and watery eyes.

Kageyama holds up his hand and presses it against the back of Hinata's fluffy head and rests his chin atop the mound of orange hair. Hinata brings his arms around Kageyama's waist, his tremors quaking even his body - slowly Kageyama rubs big circles over his back, making soft hushing sounds although he's aware that it's being fallen on... deaf ears.

His knees begin to feel weak, arms heavy, the sound of his beating heart becoming that much louder as it pulsates in his ears. Kageyama swallows with a dry throat and ceases moving his hand around Hinata's back as he feels a smaller, sweaty hand touch his forearm.

With fiery eyes still shining wetly, Hinata looks up at him.

"Can I see them?"

He doesn't wait for an answer and moves out of Kageyama's hold to run the sleeve of his leather jacket up his arm to reveal an artwork of ink plastered on his skin.

Hinata's hands, although damp with sweat, are soft and warm. He's gentle as he touches Kageyama's skin, as though the ink is still fresh. His palm rubs a firm line all the way up to Kageyama's bicep trailing the line he sees, and he can feel the partly grown hairs on his arm shift with the movement, curling back into place; he feels a long shiver start at his toes and sweep up to his head.

Kageyama read about this once - not this exact kind of situation, but, probably, how Hinata’s coping with the terror of outside. At one point Kageyama wanted to become a counselor. Studied, failed the entrance exam, and forfeited the idea altogether. Still, what he was most interested in the whole spectrum was art therapy; it seemed like a very emotional and thoughtful (or the complete and utter opposite) process of taking out whatever frustration or internal crisis one had and put it into shapes, figurines, painted pieces, artwork.

People say they experience a type of euphoria after sessions, a sensation of being able to finally express inexpressible feelings.

So Kageyama watches him carefully as Hinata’s tender hands work around his forearm, touching and dabbing at brighter shades, careful of being too rough.

Calmer than before, Hinata glances at Kageyama’s lips. “What does this one mean?” He sucks in a breath, caught in the headlights by Hinata’s dazzling eyes, casts his eyes down at the green and black abstract symbol he has his finger next to and looks back to him.

"U-Um, it's - uh, it's the - um... symbol for integrity and strength."

He smiles, glances back down, and back up with his finger pressed elsewhere. "And this one?"

Kageyama peeks down at his arm to find him pointing at a black and white street sign. "Do you really want to know?" He bites tersely, yet Hinata persists. Maybe, he thinks, Hinata didn't even recognize his tone of voice.

"Yeah. Maybe. It's kinda taking my mind off outside." He shrugs with a sweet smile, gently then, with two hands, pulling Kageyama’s sleeve back down.

Instead of reacting immediately, Kageyama adjusts his jacket and swipes back a fist full of hair resting more weight on one leg rather than the other with a hand on his prolonged hip. He sighs, watching the silverware partially hidden behind Hinata. A big mixing bowl; some shiny ladles; an odd-looking square-tipped… knife of some sort. Kageyama has to look away, he almost laughs at the idea of cutting something with something as dull as a spoon.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” He settles.

Hinata looks to his feet before Kageyama speaks, and after he does, it’s quiet. There’s no response save for the ruptures lighting the night sky. The floor rumbles in shock.

Kageyama bites his lip again, glances at Hinata and quickly looks away.

“Aren’t you gonna give me an explanation? I’m waiting, you know…”

Kageyama sighs out his nose and stands straight with his fingertips in his jeans pockets. “Yeah, sorry.” Hinata watches him. “I just don’t wanna get into it right now. It’s a long story.”

There is a sudden thickness to the air, something that feels off and… just not… right. Kageyama fidgets, knocking the tip of his shoe against the tile, gazing back to Hinata who sees past him - _through him_ \- mouthing something with his fingers twiddling by his sides.

He bites his lip again.

“Hinata.” It falls through. Feeling his chest tighten, something in his mind telling - demanding - that Kageyama shouldn’t do this, _it’s rude_ , he waves his hand to catch the ginger’s attention.

“Oh! Um, yeah?”

“What were you doing?”

“I… I, um…” Hinata’s cheeks turn bright. “I couldn’t hear you properly, oh, um, I guess that’s not right to say: I couldn’t see you talk properly… since you faced away from me,” he shuffles in place, “I was just mouthing the words I thought you said and tried to make some sort of, um… Sorry. I’m talking too much.”

“No!” Kageyama takes a step forward with wide eyes, his mouth moves in a poor attempt to speak but fails. He runs his tongue over his bitten lip and returns the step to keep the distance that still feels too close. “No… Um. You’re not talking too much. I’m sorry that… you couldn’t hea… _see_ what I said.”

It takes a moment but Hinata giggles and rubs his arm, slightly swaying, dreamily.

“Geez, you’re so serious all the time, Kageyama.”

“... Am I not supposed to be?” His face contorts with confusion, never minding the way that Hinata watches his lips move.

He shakes his head slowly, smiling, cheeks blooming with colour. “When you smile it warms my heart. It seems like you and Kaori share the same smile, when she smiles so do you and seeing her happy makes me happy… so therefore… seeing you happy makes _me_ happy too, I guess… Maybe…”

As if he snaps himself out of a trance, Hinata’s eyes bug and wildly, he waves his arms in front of him.

“Um! That was too much information, sorry! What - what I meant was, um, what I meant was that you shouldn’t be so serious all the time! And… I… Well…”

“Hinata.” His eyes are averted, but still, Kageyama isn’t going to let an opportunity like this pass. He takes two big steps to dwindle the distance between them and finally able to capture Hinata’s attention once again, Kageyama lifts the ginger’s small, delicate, warm, soft chin with his sweaty fingers. For the first time, as far as he can remember, Kageyama is enraptured by the sight of Hinata’s glorious eyes on his. Neither of them are wavering, Hinata isn’t looking at Kageyama’s lips. His eyes are brighter than the sun itself, he can’t look away. Even as Hinata relaxes and gently rests a hand on Kageyama’s cheek, he’s enamored with the sight that’s been granted to him.

“... Kageyama?”

“Do you truly like it when I smile?” Hinata’s eyes drop for a moment and Kageyama’s hand falls to his hip instead, gaining the leverage to pull him closer. Their chests are nearly pressed together, and maybe he’s over-thinking, but… he can feel Hinata’s heartbeat.

In a slow, cautious movement, Hinata nods and his fluffy hair bobs.

The corners of Kageyama’s lips quirk up.

His voice is dropped to a whisper, and his breath fans warmly across Hinata’s lips. “Well, I like it more when you do.”

His eyes drop once again.

“Kageyama…”

“Hm?”

“What day is it?” He breathes.

Kageyama blinks passively. “Friday. Why?”

“Do you have work tomorrow?” He shakes his head.

“No. It’s the weekend… Why -”

“I’m coming over.”

And with that Hinata presses his weight into the tips of his toes and turns his head to kiss Kageyama’s cheek; with a cheeky smile he turns on his heel, making his merry way to the double doors and beckons Kageyama, who, in his completely stunned state, has no reason to argue with this decision.

Still mummified in slight shock, Hinata glances back at Kageyama who follows obediently behind, and both are greeted by Kaori’s furious colouring with an angry little fist accompanied by Suga’s laughter. There are two empty cups pushed to the side at the table Kageyama sat at earlier where Suga now sits, one with brown stained at the bottom and the other still a sip or so full with juice.

Now the pair have caught their attention, Kaori sets down her crayon as they near the table and with a big, dopey grin she exclaims, “Look, daddy! Suga said I didn’t have to colour in the lines for this one, but it looks so funny! The bunny’s blue! And the blue is everywhere!”

She cackles, throwing herself back and grasping her rumbling stomach desperately, tossing her head back and forth in hopes of the pain of her laughter ceasing. Suga is no better, though, and even if his laughter is far more toned down than the girl’s, it’s just a chain reaction; she laughs, he laughs; he laughs, she laughs. But at least the horror of the storm had passed, and, thankfully, had been forgotten.

“Oh, baby girl, that’s great.” Kageyama chuckles, ruffling her slightly static hair as he crouches down. “But you know what’s even greater?”

“Hm?” W-What’s that, daddy?” Kaori struggles, wiping tears from her eyes.

He smiles, nodding his head over to the ginger who’s gone behind the counter to clean. “Hinata’s sleeping over tonight.”

Kaori’s eyes grow along with a smile that Kageyama could never get tired of seeing. “Really? For real? You’re not joking?” He shakes his head and she squirms in place, kicking her feet, with her small hands pressed to her mouth to suppress her giggles. “Then let’s go! Right now!”

“Oh, Kaori…” Suga mopes from beside her. “But we were having so much fun colouring…”

“Sorry, Suga!” She sings, cleaning up and stuffing her things in her school bag unceremoniously. “But tonight’s a sleepover! Actually, wanna come? Oh, daddy - can Suga come? Please, please, please?”

She pleads, bounces, moving to a position on her knees where she continues shoving crayons and felts back in her colouring pouch. But Suga has his own agenda, he makes this clear with a smile whilst gathering their cups, and wishes them a fun night. Kaori promises to tell him _all_ about it next time they come by; he grins and nods, concurs it’s a magnificent idea.

Still, even as Kageyama buckles in an impatient squirming little girl, gives Hinata instructions to his house so they can meet, receives another kiss to the cheek, pulls into his driveway to be met with Hinata no later than a minute more, he isn’t sure, exactly, what he’s gotten himself into.


	4. Them

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THERE IS HOMOPHOBIA IN THIS CHAPTER.
> 
> If you are triggered or offended by this material, pause your reading after Kageyama says: “… Sure? I have a daughter who was conceived by a woman so, yeah? I guess?” 
> 
> and continue reading after: "He turned his head back and sighed again."

“And so, get this, he looks at me square in the face and asks me what the fuck I was doing, right?” Kuroo milked the story to the very last drop with flushed cheeks, the nauseating scent of alcohol lingering on his every word. “So, naturally, I’m like, ‘guy, it’s my job,’ right? ‘Of course I’m gonna be on your chick if she wants a tattoo, s’how the job works.’ Ya know?”

 

Bokuto cackled across the table slamming his fist down, juvenile as he is, he spat on himself like a fool and pounded his chest with his palm where the saliva sunk into his shirt, similar to a dominant ape. Kageyama found himself repulsed and said nothing.

 

“Yeah!” Bokuto hooted, “I get ya on that one; I get it all the time.” He dragged out the ‘l’ to the point where he had completely lost his train of thought, never to be found again.

 

Bokuto often seemed to indirectly insist in strange ways to make Kageyama intrigued in whatever story, or in that case, he deducted much to his amusement, a lie, and one of those tactics was one of his specialties: emphasizing and elongating words that neither needed to be emphasized nor elongated. He slurred his words from another topic altogether into one in a single breath, and with a laugh to himself, Kageyama kept his eyes on the drunken stupor between the two.

 

To the side, Akaashi crossed his legs and ran his tongue along the rim of his glass before taking a sip with revolt, sneering at the drink he swallowed with difficulty. He sighed.

 

Kageyama dragged his eyes to the side, feeling heavy, and whilst the buffoons bragged to one another, he nudged his knee to Akaashi’s and leant in, his glass held by the rim with a few fingers. The room was uncomfortably thick and hot with smoke and lingering scent of booze, accompanied by the uneasy knowing feeling that someone was most definitely receiving oral sex in the bathroom across the bar. Kageyama swallowed and apprehensively coaxed his glass back down to the table.

 

“I’m sorry you’ve been dragged into this,” he mourned. “It’s an embarrassment. I know.”

 

“It’s fine.” Akaashi said.

 

Kageyama’s hand remained hovering above his drink, his chest heaving for the desperation of oxygen not contaminated by tobacco. Akaashi felt the struggle as well, a bead of sweat curved around his eyebrow and down his cheek where it met its demise with his sleeve. He promptly rolled it back up to his elbow.

 

“It’s not like I didn’t _not_ expect this. Kuroo and Bokuto are both intimidating in their own ways… I kind of figured they would drink until they become idiots - _greater_ idiots.” Akaashi continued, crossing his arms with his back against his seat, chin high.

 

Kageyama snorted and picked his drink back up.

 

“Yeah, but underneath it all they’re still just children. I mean…” He motioned with his wrist, Kuroo reached out and flattened part of Bokuto’s gelled hair and smacked his cheek, soon after hanging his head with laughter, his body trembling. Bokuto’s hair became frizzy and static, his eyes glossed over, his face burned red. He still maintained a smile, even as he wiped away his tears with his palms.

 

Kageyama lowered his head with an embarrassed smile.

 

“Oh, aren’t you glad he likes you? I mean who wouldn’t want a piece of that?” He paused. “Fuck, that _was_ established, right? You knew, _right?_ ”

 

“Kageyama, please.” Akaashi scoffed, shaking his head. “Of course I was aware. His disturbingly obvious infatuation with me is… concerning, I understand, but…” He took a short drink, taking pride in his time doing so as they watched on the idiots’ conversation, like cable TV, and it slowly becoming deadened by the increasingly loudening music. “I will not waste my time on someone like him.”

 

Kageyama chased out a laugh, clinking his glass against the wood that was miscellaneously engraved with marks thick enough to be scribed by pennies into it. ‘I WAS HERE!’, ‘FUBAR’; he rolled his eyes, taking a moment to imagine the sweaty and desperate-for-a-fuck men that have been where he was, sat where he was. He licked his lips wet and whirled his remaining drink and its foam up the sides of the glass.

 

“‘Someone like him’, huh?” Kageyama tipped his head back, finishing what was left making sure there was none left. A second tip back. A third. “Mind an inquiry?”

 

Akaashi pressed back further into the seat, taking a deep breath, watching the drunkards for a moment longer before glancing over to Kageyama.

 

Kageyama pushed his empty glass to the center of the table where a countless array of cups similar to his waited, leant his elbows on the edge and ran his hands through his hair before resting his chin on his wrist. He left the coaster.

 

He looked sideways to Akaashi, eyes bored and dull, yet sharp and aware, as usual. It never ceased to amuse him, even more so, he discovered, when he was drunk. If he was to be honest, Kageyama seemed to share more similarities with him more than differences. They were both misjudged for their appearances. When he looked at Akaashi, it was like a mirror to his past, he saw himself; when he was a punk, a no-good rebel… He found himself dazed and sweating.

 

“Yes, Kageyama?”

 

“What’re you into?” He asked, startled out of his reverie, and pushed back more of his hair. Akaashi watched him with pretentious caution, eyes narrowed down into thin slits. Kageyama corrected himself, waving his hands. “Not like I care, really, we’re just on the subject of it, so I thought it would be something… to talk about.” He licked his lips again. “I guess.”

 

The music reverberated and pulsed in their small, pre-ordered room, Akaashi’s foot shaking in time with the tempo, maybe faster.

 

A sigh mingled with his words. “Kageyama, I understand you’re not trying to offend me.” Akaashi started, bewaring him of a lecture, catching Kageyama’s attention from below. His eyebrows had risen up into his fallen bangs, his eyes struggling to stay open wide. “But what I believe in shouldn’t be important to you. I would only be judged more for… what I’ll say. For our respective sakes, it’s best that we should just not - not talk about this any more.”

 

Kageyama’s brows knitted together. To that, what was he to say - what was he to assume, just by that? From a poignant slouch, he made his posture similar to Akaashi’s, crossing his arms and legs.

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Kageyama pressed.

 

“Well,” he sighed again. “What I’m saying, Kageyama, is that… you shouldn’t - I, I don’t believe that it’s particularly important. Can we drop this now, please?” With minor amusement, Kageyama watched as Akaashi’s face stained red.

 

“Are you gay?” Kageyama watched him with interest that sagged once he shook his head. “Then what? People are more scared of confessing they’re gay than anything else, what’s _so_ bad you can’t even -”

 

“I’m homophobic.” Like a point-blank shot to the chest, Kageyama, with eyes wider than saucers, stared at him then slowly dropped his gaze, his lips pursed.

 

To that… what was he to say?

 

“Well, Akaashi, um. I’m _surprised_ … to say the least, but I’ll tell you now that I don’t care - I don’t,” he started slowly, still slightly baffled, catching Akaashi’s undivided attention.“But… not that I think what you believe is right or wrong or anything… I wanna tell you something too.”

 

“What? Are _you_ gay, then?” He asked.

 

“No,” Akaashi’s nostrils flared with a sigh, “but I am _seriously_ into this guy right now. He’s actually at home, watching over my daughter right now. He’s deaf… Almost. I think.”

 

Akaashi swallowed his nerves and conscience, along with the itching desire to create a greater distance between him and Kageyama.

 

“Deaf? Really?”

 

His eyes fallen to his lap, Kageyama felt himself smile and tightened his crossed arms.

 

“Yeah. He’s amazing, though. He’s beautiful too; you know the bakery I go to for lunch runs?” Kageyama peered at Akaashi who nodded. “He runs the place. All of it - there six and a half days a week. He does almost everything - amazingly, not to mention… Um - so - I’m not gonna tell you to accept me ‘cause frankly, again, Akaashi, I don’t give a shit. But while you’re with the company, with us, if _anything_ about it comes up in conversation or something, don’t be that asshole that won’t talk to me or have anything to do with me.”

 

Kageyama sighed, and under his breath he said, “Or Bokuto.”

 

Akaashi licked his lips, glancing at Bokuto who’s hardly able to keep himself steady as he laughed, stacking coasters on Kuroo’s head before staring a hole into the wall across the room.

 

“I don’t have, like, fuckin’ cooties or anything,’n neither do _those_ idiots, so -”

 

“Are you bisexual then, Kageyama? You’ve had a wife or girlfriend before, surely?” He interrupted with a sudden loudness and intensity to his voice, his head cocked and eyes narrowed slightly. From his peripheral vision, Kageyama saw both Bokuto and Kuroo, still, and watch the exchange. Coasters in their abundance fell from Kuroo’s head and crashed to the floor. The music waned.

 

“… Sure? I have a daughter who was conceived by a woman so, yeah? I guess?”

 

“I suppose I’m simply incapable of understanding you then. I do not know what to think of you right now, Kageyama, honestly. I am…” Akaashi curled his fingers against his arms and closed in on himself slightly, breaths coming out in hot puffs and cheeks going even redder. His eyebrows were pressed together more than Kageyama’s ever seen them. His lips were going white and he trembled, shaking his head.

 

“A...Akaashi… Hey, calm down, alright?” Bokuto slung his words together, his voice thick with intoxication and sap. He extended his arm out over the table, avoiding the empty glasses, almost able to touch him before Akaashi ripped his arms out of reach, planting his palms on the seat.

 

“Don’t touch me, you filth. You’re the same as him, aren’t you; you’re as disgusting as him, aren’t you?” He spat back, baring teeth as his shoulders shook in vexation.

 

Bokuto lost his will to speak, shrinking back into his seat, watching him in baffled silence as Akaashi spat curse after thoughtless curse alternating between him and Kageyama. He sniffled and hung his head low with his fists curled tightly in his lap, Akaashi, in his rage, calling him a faggot.

 

Kuroo pushed his bangs from his face, releasing a hard sigh as he stood, the backs of his knees sending the chair reeling back with a startling noise.

 

He demanded Akaashi outside immediately with eyes that reminded Kageyama of the dark, lightning lit sky from a week ago. Even though he staggered, his vision blurry and balance gone, and was offered help, he acted as offended as Akaashi, himself, was with the other men’s presences and grabbed him by the shoulder and shoved him out the door.

 

He turned his head back and sighed again.

 

“I’m sorry, boys.”

**. . .**

 

That night was the first night that Kageyama had seen Bokuto cry. Tears streaked and stained his cheeks, gasping for breath, he coughed and gagged, throwing his arms and slamming his head on the table. It shook the glasses, and one fell. When they left, Bokuto with blood staining his forehead and sweat and tears moistening his skin, Kuroo rubbed his back and kept him close as he called a cab.

 

He sniffled and coughed and moaned, clinging to Kuroo. He swept back pieces and strands of Bokuto’s hair, hushed him, and called him ‘baby’, something that Kageyama wasn’t in the right mind to comment on. Not that he cared anyway. Kageyama, too, kept a hand on Bokuto until they got to his house, his knee, and swallowed back a thick wave of emotion when he repeated and repeated and repeated that he was sorry.

 

Bokuto’s repetition made himself cry again.

 

Kageyama didn’t know what happened to Akaashi that night but he never came to work on Monday. Or Tuesday. And just like that, Kageyama realized he was gone.

 

And the uneasiness was brought into the house, Hinata keeping him bedridden with a cool, damp towel on his forehead. Kageyama, with the blankets brought up to his collarbone, complained that the water from the cloth was dripping into his ear. Hinata didn’t hear.

 

**. . .**

 

That night was added to the list of dreams that he couldn’t remember in the morning.

 

**. . .**

 

Hinata’s hair shines in the milky warm light of the rising sun, streaming in through the window, adding colour to the room. He brushes and rubs his cheek against the pillow, licking his lips in his sleep, humming briefly, then falls back into silence, and Kageyama fights the urge to close his eyes to block out the intruding brightness. The ginger’s hair drinks up the sun’s light and his cheeks are paler than from when Kageyama last remembers. He wants to watch him longer.

 

But his eyes flutter closed briefly, and he rolls over and sees a cloth beside his clock on his bedside table, folded into a square. It’s the one he usually uses to wash his face. His gaze lingers on it for a while more before flickering to the clock.

 

Eight, sharp.

 

The sudden reeling, sharp pain of a headache sends Kageyama’s body into a fit, clenching his toes and tucking his knees against his stomach, his face drowning in his pillow. His breathing comes out quick, his eyebrows scrunching together, his lip in his teeth. Kageyama yearns for painkillers but feels his face contorts even more horribly as he attempts to move, and dumbass, he thinks to himself, this is why you don’t drink.

 

He sucks in a breath and throws the blanket off. Blindly he reaches for the wall and with his fingertips he hangs his head low, eyes closed, and guides himself to the washroom. Kageyama doesn’t dare reach for the light switch. He keeps the medicine in the cabinet above the sink, so it’s out of reach for Kaori even if she decides to climb up on the counter she’d still be too small, and takes little time slipping the pills under his tongue and craning his head down for water. He wipes his mouth dry with the back of his hand and cracks open his eyes one by one.

 

Kageyama’s pale and sweaty and the reminiscence of last night is still vaguely lost to him, but he feels sick thinking about it. The deep, dark bags under his eyes and his sullen looking complexion tells him all he needs to know. His head spikes with another slash of pain and he clutches the sink with both hands, taking a deep concentrated breath.

 

He thinks to go apologize to Hinata. He thinks to call his boss, Bokuto, Akaashi, and apologize, too, but he won’t. And he doesn’t. Instead he wanders back to his bedroom and grows limp, crawling back under the blanket, tucking Hinata’s head under his chin.

 

Kageyama dances his fingers over Hinata’s shoulders and back and neck, and he inhales loudly through his nose. He squirms slightly and ends up closer to Kageyama, pressing his hand to his chest and loosely curling his fingers in his shirt.

 

“Stop, I’m sleeping…” Hinata moans. Kageyama laughs lowly, opens his mouth to speak and stops himself. His hand makes a light trail up the nape of Hinata’s neck and rests in his hair and he moans again, moving his hand to press against the center of Kageyama’s chest. “Dummy,” he says, “you don’t listen…”

 

His laugh is louder this time. Hinata drags his cheek and chin up the pillow, watching Kageyama with narrow eyes compacted with sleep. Kageyama runs his hand through his sun-kissed hair and smiles when Hinata’s eyes close again, and he hums.

 

When he stops and Hinata finally looks at him with wider, more awake eyes, and he smiles back, Kageyama sighs. His head’s eager pulsing keeps a constraint on his desire to speak, it’s either too much effort, he decides, or it’s just not worth the added thinking; it wouldn’t matter much anyway if no one was there to hear it.

“Hey, Kageyama…” Hinata says.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“You’re okay now, right? You were crying a lot last night. Even though you were drunk you were trying to get up a lot when I put you to bed and you were slamming things and cursing.”

 

He sucks in a tight breath and clenches his teeth. This was another thing he doesn’t remember. “… Yeah. I’m okay. I’m sorry you had to see me like that. I don’t usually drink but last night was-”

 

“Don’t.”

 

“What?”

 

“Don’t start apologizing, it’ll depress you.” Hinata smiles as if the world belongs to him. “Your old man face is already wrinkly enough, you want more wrinkles and crow's feet, do you?” Kageyama thinks the world should always belong to him.

 

He nods, playing with Hinata’s hair.

 

“I guess not.”

 

The ginger touches his cheek, glancing down at his tattoos and back up.

 

“Besides that, I think you’re good. I imagine you aging really well, anyway, like that guy in that travel commercial.” Kageyama laughs, Hinata’s smile big.

 

“Travel commercial, huh? Which one? The old guy that _traversed a million beaches_ or the creepy one?” His hand drags down Hinata’s body slowly, leaving feather-like touches down his arm and his small waist, resting in between the dip of his hip and ribs. His fingers push the blanket away and his hand coaxes under the small shirt.

 

“The creepy one, of course!” Hinata giggles, squirming slightly. “Dummy - no! That tickles, sto-!” Kageyama’s hand discovers a sensitive spot on his side, almost near his belly button. He grins.

 

Both of Kageyama’s hands are immediately put to work, and to gain the most possible leverage he can, he rolls Hinata on his back and swings his leg over his hips and strikes an attack on his sides. He’s almost screaming with laughter, pleading and struggling all concocted together. Hinata kicks his legs furiously, vibrating the bed and Kageyama’s almost laughing too, the colour of Hinata’s cheeks are darkening and tears bead at the corners of his eyes.

 

His lips are perfectly pink.

 

His hair spreads out beneath his head like an early morning sunset.

 

Kageyama’s hands stop and, panting, Hinata looks up at him.

 

“What’s with you all of the sudden?” He says.

 

Kageyama swallows the thick lump forming in his throat, and brings his lip in between his teeth and laps at it. Hinata watches him.

 

“Kaori…” He starts. “Kaori won’t be up for another half an hour.” He sinks down slightly, burying his hands in the pillow supporting the ginger’s head, their hips almost at an even angle if it wasn’t for the arch in Kageyama’s back. He goes down further once he feels no sign of resistance, moving his hands so his elbows could take their place, and breathes warm, hesitant air across Hinata’s lips.

 

“You said Kaori, right?” Hinata whispers. Kageyama nods, his arms keeping his stance solid. He takes a moment to pray that his old weekend workout routines will come to his rescue.

 

“You don’t have to worry, I took her to daycare this morning. I made her breakfast and everything. I told her that you weren’t feeling well, and as much as she wanted to say goodbye to you, I knew you really needed your rest.”

 

“What time were you even up this morning?” Hinata’s eyes dart down to watch his mouth.

 

“Quarter after six, but I couldn’t sleep well anyway.”

 

Kageyama kisses him, pressing hard against his mouth, sighing. Hinata’s hands rise slowly and gently rest on his shoulders. Their lips part and they breathe in sync, their cheeks warm.

 

“Now, what was that for?” He asks, his eyes soft.

 

“A thank you.”

 

No more questions are asked that morning.

 

There’s only sunlight, a quiet house, and simple kisses holding more than what words can explain.

 

**. . .**

 

_“bokuto im sorry about last night.”_ **Seen at 9:41 PM.**

 

_“no!! don’t worry!! honestly i’m over it already!!! (๑•̀ㅂ•́)و✧”_ **Seen at 9:43 PM.**

 

_“You sure?”_ **Seen at 10:05 PM.**

 

_“bokuto?”_ **Seen at 10:05 PM.**

 

_“bokuto answer me. i dont give a shit what you’re doing right now answer me. You’ve got me worried man”_ **Seen at 10:05 PM.**

 

_“Im sorry Kageyama Im still kind of pissed about it but thats not ur problem ok? just relax. wanna do beers next weekend? it was kinda fun right?! ;)”_ **Seen at 10:07 PM.**

 

_“I’ll pass. I’m busy next weekend anyway”_ **Seen at 10:08 PM.**

 

_“OOOOOH WIT H UR BOY FRIEIIDNDNDNNDD?????????! o(≧∇≦o)”_ **Seen at 10:10 PM.**

 

_“i guess.”_ **Seen at 10:14 PM.**

 

_“YES I KNEW IT.”_ **Seen at 10:15 PM.**

 

_“yup you sure got me good bokuto”_ **Seen at 10:21 PM.**

 

_“use emojis once and awhile you butthole you’re such a brick to talk to!!!”_ **Seen at 10:30 PM.**

 

_“oh come on dont play with my emotions like this man u wanna fight????”_ **Seen at 10:30 PM.**

 

_“KAGEYAMAMA I’LL TELL KUROO TO DOCK UR PAY”_ **Seen at 10:30 PM.**

 

_“you don’t have the balls bokuto.”_ **Seen at 10:35 PM.**

 

_“Oh yeah?? Says who??? I have HUGE balls fuck you”_ **Seen at 10:42 PM.**

 

_“（　(≪●≫)　）Д（　(≪●≫)　）”_ **Seen at 10:43 PM.**

 

_“LOL atta boy!”_ **Seen at 10:45 PM.**

 

_“yeah yeah i only used that one because Hinata said it looked funny.”_ **Seen at 10:46 PM.**

 

_“HES WITH YUO RIGHT NOW???? GET SOME BOY OOOOOOO”_ **Seen at 10:50 PM.**

 

_“Goodnight Bokuto. See you tomorrow.”_ **Seen at 10:56 PM.**

 

_“remember, if you ever need to talk i’m available. always.”_ **Seen at 10:56 PM.**

 

_“ok sure sure now go get some, big man!!”_ **Seen at 11:01 PM.**

 

_“don’t ever cry again. It’s fucking weird when you’re sad. I can’t believe I’m saying this but just stay like this. I can deal with this.”_ **Seen at 11:03 PM.**

 

_“Stay like what? Awesome?”_ **Seen at 11:04 PM.**

 

_“Shut your mouth goodnight”_ **Seen at 11:07 PM.**

 

_“Night kageyama”_ **Seen at 11:09 PM.**

 

_“.......... thanks.”_ **Seen at 2:59 AM.**

 

_“goodnight.”_ **Seen at 2:59 AM.**

 

_“yeah.”_ **Seen at 3:00 AM.**


End file.
